


The Bikini Bottom Tickler

by Future Authoress (YvesAdele)



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Non-Consensual Tickling, Tickle torture, Tickling, Ticklish Male Character, Ticklish Male Characters, Ticklish SpongeBob, tickle monster - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvesAdele/pseuds/Future%20Authoress
Summary: A devious monster traipses across the sea floor, and it's picked Bikini Bottom as its next target. It has kidnapped SpongeBob and taken him to its underground lair. Sandy thinks she might be able to find him, but she'll need some big time help from agents Mark and Taylor. Together, they'll face the Monster...and its powerful tickles.
Relationships: Sandy Cheeks & SpongeBob SquarePants, Sandy Cheeks/SpongeBob SquarePants
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

The squeak of shoes on concrete wakes SpongeBob from a trepidatious sleep. His eyes pop open, and he sits up from the cold floor. Scrambling into a corner of the dark cell, he slaps both hands over his mouth, trying not to breathe. His heart hammers wildly. He’s convinced that, if he keeps quiet enough, pushes himself far enough into the shadows, it won’t come for him again.

He trembles as shoes _squeak…squeak…squeak_ closer. He can’t bite back the whimper that rises to his throat.

_LITTLE SPONGE FELLOW…_

Its voice is eerie, split between a deep baritone and a piercing falsetto. It echoes off the walls like nails on a chalkboard, worming into SpongeBob’s brain and making his knees knock.

The cell door _clangs_ as it opens, and the Monster’s long, lithe legs appear as shadows at the entrance.

SpongeBob can’t hold back pleas any longer, crumpling to the ground and holding both hands out in front of him. “Please, Mr. Monster…”

Its grotesque, huge head ducks into sight. A horrible grin stretches past the edges of its face.

“O-or Ms. Mons-Monster…”

It enters the cell, spaghetti-like limbs hovering ominously. Its shoes _squeak…squeak…_ closer and closer.

“P-please…not again…”

_TIME FOR MY SNACK…_

“N-nno!”

_Chapter One_

“You’re really not ticklish? Like, not even a little?”

Agent Margaret Taylor stares incredulously as her partner jabs her in the ribs with his finger. She frowns. “Not there, no.”

Agent Samuel Mark’s eyes light up. “Ahha, so you’re ticklish _somewhere!_ ”

She leans against the armrest, so close that he has to lean away to avoid contact. Taylor’s tail flicks ominously. “Would you like to figure out who’s got more spots?”

His cheeks color red. “Sorry.” He clears his throat, visibly relaxing when she settles back in her seat. “That’s probably why they sent you out here, huh?”

She nods. “Spot on. What about you? I thought you were on assignment at some whale sanctuary or something.”

“Turns out they didn’t really need my help. Case was over-manned.”

“So you requested to join mine?”

He looks at his hands with a small shrug. “Hope that’s ok.”

“I’m…not disappointed.” She smirks. “Just surprised. Awfully brave of you to volunteer. I really thought I’d be solving this one alone; nobody else in the department wanted to touch it.”

“I enjoy a challenge.” His eyes stay fixed on his hands. “P-Plus, I’ve never seen a lagoon in-person! So that’s…that's another reason to come.”

“Mmhmm.” Agent Taylor rises from her seat as an officer appears in the lobby; he’s a stout fish, dark green in color, and he ushers the merpeople swiftly into a back office.

“Agent Mark, Agent Taylor. An honor to meet you.” He extends a fin and shakes each of their hands in turn.

“Likewise,” says Mark. “As you’re likely aware, the bureau’s been tracking a…um…hostile creature. And we have reason to believe it’s setting itself up here, in Bikini Bottom.”

The officer nods. “I’ve been briefed, and we think you’re right. We’ve had a string of missing person’s cases the past few weeks. I’m just relieved to be handing this off to feds, if I’m being honest. What kind of creature we talkin’ about here, anyway?”

Agent Mark balks, so Agent Taylor says, “We’re tracking a tickle monster.”

The officer raises both eyebrows. “Well, that seems…I mean, no offense, because I’m sure you folks know what you’re doing, but doesn’t this seem like overkill for a _tickling_ creature? I mean, child’s play?”

“It’s a bit more severe than that, I’m afraid,” Taylor explains. “This monster has left a wake of havoc everywhere it goes. Keeping prisoners for days, weeks – we even had a case in The Gulf of a victim who was kept for a year.”

“Yeesh. Were they okay?”

“He’ll recover. Thankfully he suffered little harm and was in excellent physical health when we found him.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” The officer nods. “My department’s full resources are at your disposal.” He hands them a business card. “My direct line, if you can’t reach me at the office.”

The agents exit the office. As they reach their boat, Taylor pauses, hand on the door.

“Sam.”

He looks surprised. “Yeah?”

She smiles softly. “Thanks.”

“What for?”

“Joining me. It’s nice not to be alone.”

He taps the passenger side door, looking sheepish. “Yeah, well, you’re my friend. If nobody else is gonna back you up…”

“I won’t be upset if you decide it’s too much,” she says, smirking at him as she finally opens the door. “I saw the way you blushed in there.”

He glares, entering the vehicle as well. “Not fair!”

She reaches over to poke him in the ribs, much like he did her in the station. Agent Mark squeaks, jumping in his seat and frantically batting her hand away.

“Hey!”

She laughs. “That’s what I thought. Maybe you should put a bulletproof vest on while we’re here. I’d hate to see you fall victim to the Monster.”

“Something tells me that’s partially untrue.”

As she puts the boat into gear, she can’t hide a devious grin. “Fair.”

They drive for a few minutes in silence, Agent Mark looking sheepishly at the floorboard, tail flicking nervously to and fro.

Agent Taylor glances sideways at him. “Check into the hotel then get straight to interviews?”

“I like that idea,” Mark agrees. “Sooner we get this solved, the sooner we can get out of here and get that…thing off the streets.”

“Hey,” Taylor says. “I’ve got your back. Nothing to worry about.”

He scoffs. “Easy for you to say. You’re basically immune to this thing.”

“Mostly immune. I wasn’t kidding, I do have some ticklish spots.”

“Mostly immune is loads better than…” The merman’s cheeks color and he stares out the window, trying to look indifferent and failing horribly. He clears his throat. “Anyway, this thing is basically like a kindnapper, right?”

“If it makes you feel better to refer to it that way, sure.”

“It does. So, we got a witness list?”

“Yeah, one of the locals reported a friend missing a few days ago. She thinks she may have a lead, but the local blue was holding off for us so maybe we start there?”

“We’ve got a plan.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See what the Tickler is up to in its sinister lair.

_Chapter Two_

SpongeBob holds still as he can. The Monster has all four of its noodley arms wrapped around him tight, like he’s a stuffed animal. It’s rocking them back and forth softly, humming in its creepy, split voice. He doesn’t dare move, for fear he might remind it of its intentions. Not that it has likely forgotten. Part of SpongeBob wants to just get it over with, get the thing to take what it wants and toss him back into his cell.

_CUTE. SQUISHY. YOU’RE A FUN ONE._

SpongeBob swallows thickly and whimpers.

_YOUR GIGGLES ARE DELICIOUS. BEST I’VE HAD IN AGES_.

Two of the arms release their grip to wiggle fingers against his sides. SpongeBob squirms and kicks, biting his lip against inevitable laughter, but the Monster is strong and unrelenting. He pushes against the attacking digits, desperately trying to block them from tickling. It isn’t effective, but at least he feels like he’s putting up a fight. It helps him bite back the laughter.

_NOT BEING VERY GOOD TODAY. NEED MY SNACK, SPONGE FELLOW_.

“Please…please no!” SpongeBob sucks in a sharp breath when his arm are pulled taught over his head, each wrist firmly gripped by a strong, gloved hand. “Not that—please don’t do that! I’ll give you what you—no ahyahyahyahya…” he devolves into helpless giggles as the other pair of hands scratches light patterns under his arms, squeezing and scribbling mercilessly. His squirming is useless; SpongeBob isn’t very strong anyway, but the Monster is _very_ strong. It holds his wrists firm, tickling and tickling and tickling the sensitive expanse beneath his arms.

The Monster ignores SpongeBob’s pleas, his babbling _no!_ s and _stop!_ s and _I’m begging you!_ s. It tickles and tickles, until tears streak down his face. His pleading giggles devolve into sobs, squirming into weak trembling.

_MMMM, YES. DELICIOUS. THANK YOU, SPONGE._

It digs fingers into his soft, spongey flanks. With his arms held captive high above him, SpongeBob can’t do a single thing to protect himself. All he can do is shriek and giggle and beg. His face goes hot. He can hear his own pathetic sounds echoing off concrete walls, and he’s glad nobody else is around to hear how ridiculous he sounds…to see how ridiculous he must look. Although, perhaps if someone else was here, they could help him escape this ticklish nightmare. He blushes brighter, knowing…hoping…that Sandy at least is looking for him, but praying she doesn’t find him…like _this_.

The monster wriggles its fingers into the pores on his sides, and SpongeBob’s laughter pitches up and then goes silent, breathy, panicked, as the tickling overwhelms him and he starts to see spots at the edges of his vision.

Not until he’s surely on the verge of passing out does the torment finally stop. SpongeBob sucks in a greedy gulp of oxygen, then coughs.

His wrists are released, though the creature keeps a firm hold on his sides, fingers tight and threatening to squeeze if SpongeBob moves. His breathing is ragged and short, breaths trembling in nervous anticipation – no, _worry_ – that the Monster will decide it wants just a liiiiitle more.

Its fingers twitch. SpongeBob whimpers pathetically, clenching his eyes shut in preparation for another round of tickling.

But it doesn’t tickle. Instead, it lifts him effortlessly, almost with care, and takes him back to the dark little cell. It opens the door and pushes him inside.

Knees weak, he can’t even resist a little, collapsing to the floor.

_I LIKE YOU. MAY KEEP YOU A LONG WHILE. WILL FIND MORE COMFORTABLE ACCOMMODATIONS_.

He hardly has time to process the words before the creature turns and pads out of the room, shoes _squeak squeak squeak_ ing away. The cell door slams.

Alone again in the dark, and absolutely drained of energy, SpongeBob collapses to the floor for an uneasy slumber.

When SpongeBob wakes, it’s to a little more light than before. There’s a dull glow coming from the ceiling: LED lights. There’s a string of them around the perimeter of the room. He realizes that he’s also lying on something much softer than concrete. A foam mattress cushions him now, and there’s a blanket draped over him. He sits up slowly. His limbs still feel weak. He shudders when he realizes the Monster must have come in and moved him around in his sleep. He must have been exhausted.

In the corner of the room is an ice box. SpongeBob cautiously rises and approaches it. The lid pops open easily enough, and inside are a few sandwiches and some sodas. His heart sinks. If it’s feeding him, giving him a comfortable place to sleep, it must plan on keeping him here for even longer. Still, it would be silly to pass up a meal, so he unzips one of the bags and eats the sandwich. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t eaten in a couple of days, maybe it’s because he’s been through so much vigorous activity, but it tastes _exquisite_. He gulps down a soda and then collapses, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He closes the ice box to keep the cold in.

With the new lights, he finally has the opportunity to look around. The cell is actually much cleaner than he imagined. The floor, wall, and ceiling are all solid gray concrete. The door looks metal, and there is no visible handle or grips on the inside. He wonders how it locks, if it needs a key or if it’s just a bar across the door. If his friends find him, will they be able to open it?

After a few minutes observing the cell, he finds strength to stand again. His legs feel wobbly; he can’t believe how weak he still is. He traipses to the little foam bad and pulls it into the corner. He sits on it and pulls the blanket up, holding it close. It smells fresh, like laundry detergent. He can hear his heart beating, his shallow breathing. Thankfully, no ominous squeaking of giant shoes on stringy legs coming to pluck him from the cell and torment him. He shivers, replaying the tickling in his mind.

Sandy told him to lock his door. She tried to tell him over and over, _It’s even more important when you’re home, SpongeBob! What if someone breaks in while you’re sleepin’? You could get hurt!_

He should have listened to her. Stupid! She was exactly right. The Monster broke in while he was sound asleep. Snatched him right out of his bed and…

Even alone in the dim light, SpongeBob blushes, clutching the blanket. He wonders if Squidward heard him laughing. He probably didn’t even think anything of it, probably thought it was just him and Patrick having a sleepover. How villainous of that Monster to weaponize his laughter! SpongeBob loves laughing, loves laughing loud and long and from deep within. Being tickled for a little bit is even okay. It’s fun, a way to make friends and family smile.

But the Monster? The Monster is greedy. It made him laugh and laugh until he couldn’t breathe, until all he could feel or think about was the tickling.

It liked his laughter so much that it carried him off to the dark, cold lair. SpongeBob doesn’t even know how long he’s been here, just knows that he’s been tickled more in the last few days than any other tickling in all the rest of his life put together.

He has a feeling there’s much, much more tickling in his near future. Hands shaking where they clutch the thin blanket, SpongeBob sure hopes someone is looking for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have left comments and kudos on the first chapter! This fic is just light and silly and fun - I've been delving really hard into "rough" fanfic for too long. Needed a lighthearted break. As lighthearted as this can be, anyway. Because what is a little fluff without some angst. LOL. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Much more to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Taylor get a new lead, while the Tickler snacks on another victim...

Agents Mark and Taylor arrive at the Treedome in the late afternoon.

“Think you can handle the interview?” Taylor asks.

Mark glares at her, eyes narrow. “I don’t like your tone.”

She blinks innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Just ’cause I have a particular _soft spot_ around this culprit…”

Taylor snickers.

“…doesn’t mean I can’t talk about it with witnesses.”

“Okay,” she concedes, “so say it.”

“Say what?”

A corner of her mouth twists into a smirk. “What, exactly, are we searching for, Agent Mark?”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “Now you’re just being petty.”

“Fine.” She raises a fist to knock on the metal door. “I’ll talk to her.”

Mark pushes in front of her and raises his own fist, rapping thrice on the door. Under his breath, he murmurs, _“Tickle monster.”_

“Atta boy!” Taylor laughs as a light clicks on over the domed door.

A sweet, southern voice chimes over an intercom. “Who is it?”

Mark removes his badge from his jacket pocket, flashing it toward the ’com. “Agents Mark and Taylor. We’re here about your missing person report.”

“About dang time! Gimme one sec, I’ll be right out.”

Taylor snickers again as her partner blushes and frowns. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she replies, sweetly.

The squirrel introduces herself as Sandy Cheeks, emerging from the polyethylene dome in a dense, gray diving suit.

“I’m so glad y’all are finally here! Whole thing’s had me bowed up like a banty rooster. Now, I think I got a coupl’a leads, if ya give me one sec I can pull my whiteboard out—”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” Mark interjected. “We’ll do the footwork, but thanks for the offer. Could you tell us where you last saw your friend?”

“Yessir, of course. We was having an outing like any other, just us an’ a coupl’a friends hangin’ around. We went to the beach n’ then we watched some stars when it got dark out. Sponge n’ I were supposed to go mountain climbin’ in the mornin’. When he didn’t answer my phone call, I figured he chickened out like usual so I went on over to his house. That’s when I realized somethin’ musta happened. His door was wide open, poor snail gone halfway down the block lookin’ for somethin’ to eat.”

“And your friend,” Mark said, “SpongeBob SquarePants, correct?”

“Yessir.”

“The last you saw of him was in the evening, three days ago?”

“That is correct-o-mundo. Since that 72 hours done did passed, safe to say there’s gonna be a search party or somethin’ headed out now, right?”

“We’ll do our best to find your friend, ma’am,” Taylor interjected. “Now, did you see him at his residence that night? Did you actually see him go home?”

“Yes ma’am, even gave him a tongue lashin’ about locking that front door of his. He’s so trusting, poor little guy. Oh please agents, you gotta help me find him. He’s just the gentlest soul ever there was, and I’m scared somethin’ real bad’s gonna happen to him if he’s missin’ for much longer.”

“A word of solace, if I may,” Taylor said. “We’ve been tracking a lead that places our suspect here in Bikini Bottom. This suspect of ours has a track record of keeping victims in excellent physical condition.”

“And their mental health?”

“We’re still assessing, but all-in-all the outcome has shown more positive outcomes than negative.”

“You’ll pardon me for sayin’ so,” Sandy goes on, “but that don’t much lift my spirits. No matter, I appreciate all you two are doin’ here. I really do have some more info – y’all don’t have to look at it right this second, but if ya got a email or somethin’ I can send you over some photographs of what I got.”

“Anything you have would be helpful,” Mark agrees. He hands her his card. “That’s my cell.”

Taylor repeats the gesture, pointing out her number as well and encouraging the squirrel to call either of them with any new information or if she heard anything.

Sandy looks over both of the cards for a long moment, then nods. “Agents, would it be too much a favor to ask to keep me in the loop? SpongeBob…he’s my best friend. In the whole wide world. He means more to me ’n…well, just…couldja?”

“Of course,” Taylor says, softly. “We’ll do everything we can. If you text me at that number, I’ll let you know where we’re at as I’m able.”

Sandy reaches out and pulls the merwoman into a surprise hug, squeezing her tight through the suit. “Oh, thank you!”

Taylor smiles and awkwardly pats Sandy’s back. When she finally lets go, Taylor says, “Keep your own door locked as well, ma’am. This thing is nabbing people straight out of their beds at night, and from our witness statements it’s strong. Likely stronger than the three of us put together. Be safe.”

“You got it, Agent.”

Agents Taylor and Mark climb back into their boat, Taylor looking uncharacteristically morose.

“What’s on your mind?” Mark asks as they pull away.

“That poor girl,” Taylor says. “You can see how badly she wants to get out there, find her friend and save him.”

Mark nods. “These cases are always hard. You ever been on Missing Persons before?”

Taylor sighs. “Yeah. It never gets easier, though. At least in this case we have a good chance of finding the victim alive. I’ve broken more bad news than I care to recount.”

Mark reaches across the console to put a comforting hand on his partner’s shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. We got good leads, and Miss Cheeks seems like she’s gonna be a pretty good asset. An extra set of eyes kind of thing.”

“You’re right. Hey.” She looks over at him. “Thanks for coming out. I know you didn’t have to, and I’m more than capable of handling this on my own, but…it’s nice to be able to lean on someone. Especially someone I trust.”

He claps her shoulder twice then withdraws the hand, smiling. “Couldn’t leave my favorite agent in the field by herself, could I?”

“Well, I appreciate it.”

_In the veil of darkness, the dead of night when folks are sleeping, only then is it safe to emerge. The shadows give me cover to slip between houses. I can smell them all, their ticklish auras beckoning to me. None as sweet as the sponge I hold dear, no no. He is special. He is delicious, his laughter a delicacy fit for a tickling king._

_But I must savor this treat, must not wear it thin or take my fill so I grow tired of it. No, I must find another. But what can satisfy after a meal so fulfilling? Quiet, quiet I must be as I slip through the front door. This one smells tasty. He’s seasoned himself well, home filled with beautiful things, yet still he is not happy. No matter, he will laugh, and it will satisfy. Perhaps he shall even thank me._

_Up the stairs I go. Not a one of the wooden slats creak beneath my feet. Beautiful. Ah yes, I can hear him snoring. He will be nice and tender from his slumber. My favorite time to feed. Freshly-awakened creatures are so much more pliable and sensitive._

_I open the door to his sleeping chambers; it is an octopus, tucked beneath his blankets with an adorable night cap upon his head. This bed would do nicely had I time for more elaborate restraints, but I haven’t. I must make haste with this meal, lest prying eyes follow me to my home and discover my beautiful, beautiful sponge. They will want to take him from me. I cannot allow that._

_I pull the blanket back as not to rouse the sleeping creature. Oh, four feet, what a delight! Twice the ticklishness._

_His eyes blink open as I wrap my hands around slender ankles._

_“Hey!” he protests, but it is too late. I have him in my grasp, and I waste no time scribbling my fingers between suction cups over gloriously soft flesh._

_“Wha-what are you doing!” The words escape less than a moment before he’s able to feel it, delicious snickers rising from his belly to his throat. Ahhhh, so sating. He tries to kick me away, but I am too strong. I pin his ankles to the mattress with ease, tickle-tickle-tickling his soles as he thrashes._

_He throws a pillow at my head. Adorable._

_“Staaaa-aha-aha-ahaaap it you ahahaha freak!”_

_Well now, the insults I could live without, but no matter. His laughter fills me nonetheless. The creature holds his sides, breaking down into hysterical guffaws as pleas spill from his lips. Oh, I do love it when they beg for mercy. I consume his giggles like the treat they are, savoring every hiccup and chortle and snort like a delicate pop of flavor._

_When I’ve had my fill, I release him. He is satisfactory, but I don’t fancy I shall return for seconds._

_With labored breathing, he says, “I’m calling the cops right now!”_

_Well, perhaps I am full, but perhaps also a little more would not hurt. He tries to escape the bed, but I am quick and grab him by the wrist, yanking him back and flinging him to the mattress. He yelps as I climb atop the bed, raising two tentacles in a defensive position._

_“Now wait…h-hold on, I didn’t mean anything…what are you doing now?!”_

_I gather his wrists in one hand and raise them high, high above his head._

_“W-wait…don’t do that! Please!”_

_“YOU SHOULD HAVE JUST GONE BACK TO SLEEP,” I tell him. My lower arms raise, and to demonstrate what is coming his way, I wriggle my fingers in the air._

_“N-not there!” he begs, squirming uselessly in my grasp. “Don’t do this!”_

_“HAVE NO WORRIES,” I assure, “I WILL BRING YOU NO HARM.” My tickling hands descend to do their work on his tender underarms. The sounds of him screaming and howling in tasty laughter fill the night air._

_And to think, I'll have dessert in the morning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe I'm writing this thing. It's so dumb and fun - which is what fanfic is suppose to be, right?
> 
> In case you couldn't parse it from the Tickler's perspective, his victim in this chapter is Squidward. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> AOIGJIDJGI  
> I don't know what has come over me this week. I feel like I'm losing my mind sometimes when I start writing fanfic. It's always like this. It's always gonna be like this. I will not apologize.  
> Anyway, the Bikini Bottom Tickler has a tumblr. It thinks it's an artist or something *eyeroll*. Please enjoy this fluffy tickly nonsense. I happen to think it's pretty cute.  
> Anyway, more chapters to come in the VERY near future.


End file.
